Han
by aknightofni
Summary: When battle blows ill for an adolescent Legolas and his soldiers, they are forced to take refuge in a mortal village. The worlds of humble humans and royal elves collide when the prince finds friendship in a common man and love in a forbidden woman.
1. Meetings in Han

Han

(I think I'll change the title soon.)

Author: aknightofni  
Rated T

Summary: When battle blows ill for an adolescent Legolas and his soldiers, they are forced to take refuge in a mortal village. The worlds of humble humans and royal elves collide when the prince finds friendship in a common man and love in a forbidden woman.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is Lord of the Rings-ish.

The air smelled no longer putrid, as it had only a day before. It instead smelled sweet, like the blooming of flowers and growing of grasses. There was a faint scent of wet earth, as if it had rained in this place very recently. There was also a strong presence of smoke in the air, as if wood was being burned.

It was also very quiet. There was no sound of swords clattering against shields like there had been a day before. Instead, there was the sound of laughter and of life, spilling forth from the little village.

Little, perhaps, understates how small the village was. There were perhaps twenty five homes at the most scattered in that clearing. Pine trees caressed it gently as it rested, sleeping in its nook of safety.

The air was heavily misted, a hanging grey above the land. It would indeed rain again, perhaps a very large storm, from the site of the darkening clouds above. The cold air was enough to stifle the senses. It could chill one to the bone if it grew any cooler.

The prince sniffed the air, his nose slightly hurting from the hard combination of smoke and cold air. The sight of a village had shocked him into silence, as he had not encountered humans since he was very young. He titled his head and seemingly studied it for a while before finally opening his mouth to say a word. "Gorron."

"Yes your highness," an elf appeared at his side, with waist length brown hair and twinkling eyes. He waited for the late reply with patience, but seemed very troubled.

"Accompany me. I must ask for room and food for us. We have no choice." He seemed also troubled, perhaps more so than the other. Leading him down the little slope through the trees, the prince approached the village with caution.

They were small houses, all of which were completely constructed of wood. Smoke curled delicately out of all their chimneys and their windows glowed with firelight. The prince approached the closest home first.

They stood on the doorstep, the warmth from the house already radiating onto them. Gorron knocked three solid times and waited. A moment later, a man creaked open the door and peered out at them.

He was a muscular man, with a short, curly beard around his chin. He possessed brown hair and eyes that glittered from within his friendly features. He appeared to be about in his late thirties. He seemed to be in shock at the sight of elves at his door.

The prince was about to speak, but Gorron had been quicker in words. "We sir," he said, "-are in great need. We are travelers who have stumbled upon misfortune. Our group of soldiers, sir, is in poor health. Half of us are injured terribly, and may be at the risk of death if we are not offered shelter. We ask for kindness sir-"

"How many of you are there?" the man interrupted, his soft eyes tracing them interestedly.

"There are ten of us," Gorron replied.

The man stepped out of the cabin and motioned for the elves to follow him. He made his way around the back of the house and into a broad, empty circle, what must have been, the prince mused, the village center. The backs of the homes and some of the livestock were here.

The man in his late thirties blew on a rams horn placed upon a stump. With in minutes, humans of all ages appeared out of the cabins, amassing into the circle. They whispered hurriedly amongst each other. Many gasped. Elves were indeed a rare sight in those parts. Some children even pointed at the two, standing with their eyes averted. The elves felt embarrassed by such a greeting.

None of the humans bowed, as it was not their custom, which offended the elves. Bowing was the polite way of welcome in their culture, and so the elves bowed, without bows in reply.

It was decided, in that little meeting place, that each elf was to stay with a family for as long as they needed. The prince found himself, as leader of his warriors, to stay with the leader of the village. The leader of the village was the man they had first approached.

The prince was led into the cabin Gorron had earlier knocked on. It was very cozy and warm on the inside, as the fire was brilliantly burning several pine logs to ashes. Gorron approached the hearth and tossed a few branches into the flames, pausing to watch it become engulfed in orange.

The house was small; nothing like the prince had ever stayed in. The front room was not large enough to be called a parlor, he observed. It had no glittering portraits or golden statues lining the walls, but odds and ends such as tools and cattle brands. A little, expensive snow globe rested most out of place next to a very old, bent horseshoe.

The room was glowing from the firelight, although there was barely any other light because windows were very meager. There was only one in that room and it was by the door. Two chairs sat across from each other at the hearth. They were tattered chairs, but well-loved, it appeared. Renlan took a seat in the one on the right, when facing the fire, and offered the prince the one across from him.

The man studied him for a moment, taking in every feature. He had, the prince could assume, never seen an elf before in his life. After a while, he spoke, "I am Renlan. I am the leader of this village, Han. I welcome you and your soldiers."

"Your kindness shall be rewarded," the prince replied.

The man smiled and waved his hand, "No need. No need. Money is not so important, now is it?"  
"No," said the prince frowning, running a hand through his long, golden hair, "I suppose not." The man's reaction had surprised him. He had always heard of the greed of humans and expected the demand for more than he would offer. "I am Legolas, son of Thranduil," he continued.

"Ah, you are so young!" Renlan stated curiously, surveying him. "So young and a leader of soldiers already! You must be only sixteen, seventeen?"

Legolas laughed richly as he answered. "Perhaps sixteen or seventeen centuries! But I suppose if I were human I would be about that age."

Renlan's jaw fell in awe. "Centuries?" He had never quite seen anything so old. "I- I'm thirty eight years. And three seasons. And when is your birth date?"

"The seventeenth of September," he answered. "And yours?"  
The man smiled, perhaps because calendars and birth dates in elvish custom were identical to human customs, "The twenty fifth of March."

"Ah," the elf replied swiftly, "The twenty fifth of March was my grandfather's birth date." He smiled delicately as he was brought a cup of hot tea by Renlan's wife. Renlan's wife was a rather plump woman, with a round, red face and kind eyes. She welcomed him courteously and offered him whatever he would ask for. The name she gave was Fanny, and after she had served the two she winked slightly at her husband and left the room.

"So, Legolas," Renlan began, propping his feet up on a raised cushion. Shadows from the firelight danced across their faces. His eyes looked somewhat sunken in from those shadows, but he did not seem otherwise fatigued. "You are a lad! You must have much skill to head an army."

The prince had not reacted right away, as he was unused to being addressed as simply Legolas by anyone other than his own father. All others spoke to him as 'your highness.' "Oh, I'm not a lad," Legolas replied, resting his head on his hand as his eyes traced the man. "I am of age."

"Of age? Already?" asked the man in surprise. "If you were mortal, you would still be a lad!"

"I am not mortal," replied the prince. "As for skill," he seemed distant for a moment before continuing, "I'm not quite so sure I have much."

"So tell me about your home," pleaded the man. "It must be an amazing place."

"Greenwood," Legolas answered, "-is a very large kingdom. There are many villages, most of which are built within the trees. There is a castle where a mighty king dwells. There are enchanted rivers, and-"

"A king!" repeated the man. "Do you know the king? Surely with such a high ranking as you have, you would know the king?"  
"I've met him," Legolas replied modestly.

"You've met a king!" declared he, but not to Legolas. It was more just a statement to the air. "What is he like?"

Legolas's eyes twinkled as he smiled, answering the question as if he were caressing it within his hands, "Well, he's a very kind person. He's just. He is undefeatable with a bow and arrow. He enjoys fine wines and loves gold. He's brought order, to most of his lands." _And I've disappointed him. He gave me a simple assignment and I end up losing good horses and bringing back injured soldiers. I'm staying in the house of a man, who I am telling about Greenwood and drinking tea with by his hearth! How the perfect king would frown at me! _By the time he had finished speaking, his smile had been replaced with a scowl.

"You must be very tired," Renlan said, immediately noticing his change of mien. "I shall show you to your room."

Legolas was led into a short, dark hallway where he was given the fourth and last door on the right. There were no doors on the left. The room itself was very dark. There was a window on the farthest wall toward the right corner. The darkening, gray sky was visible at first glance. A small, wooden bed was set in the center of the right wall. It was, Legolas decided, the tiniest room he had ever walked into.

"I apologize for its lack of glory," Renlan frowned, the elf feigning comfort. "We don't have many guests, 'cept when my brother visits from Gondor. But I hope it does fit you."

"But suppose your brother visits while I am here?" Legolas asked, pulling back the covers on the bed. At least, he thought, the room was clean and uncluttered.

Renlan turned red and replied, "Oh no, that wouldn't happen. Have a good night Legolas."

_His ears are pointy!_

_Shh! You'll wake him!_

_Why can't –I- sleep with my eyes open?_

_You really are a fool Foland!_

Legolas blinked the clouds from his eyes. He leapt to his feet in reflex before he saw that there were two human children hovering above him curiously. They backed away and huddle from surprise at his jump and watched him fearfully.

"We're sorry for waking you! Please don't hurt us!" the little boy pleaded.

"Apologies, little ones," said the elf, seating himself back down on the bed. "I did not mean to startle you. I won't hurt you. I am Legolas, a guest of your father's."

"We've heard," the little girl replied. "I'm Rain, and this is my brother Foland. Don't mind him; he's not very bright."

"Oh, somehow I don't believe that," Legolas said sympathetically to Foland. Both children were very young. The girl looked to be about nine and the boy looked more to be seven or eight years old. Both children had rosy complexions and a medium brown hair color.

"Join us for morning meal!" Foland begged, tugging at the elf's hand. "You're invited! Mother cooks so wonderfully!"

Legolas was indeed hungry and he let himself be led out through the windowless hallway to the main room, where, off to the side was the dining area and kitchen. He was given a seat next to Renlan, who was at the head of the table, and across from the two children. Fanny was at the opposite head of the table.

Legolas stared at his plate with interest. The first thing he noticed was, in fact, not the lack of fancy plates, goblets or silverware. It was the food. It was not the usual carefully selected fruits, breads or roast bird that he usually would enjoy at a breakfast. Two eggs had been boiled and placed next to a piece of well done hog meat. He jabbed at it curiously.

"How did you sleep last night, Legolas?" asked Fanny of Legolas, eating her food very delicately.  
"Well," replied the prince, only slightly truthful. His eyes floated with distaste down once again to his strange meal. A growl from his stomach told him at once, however, that he should eat it no matter how odd it may seem. He took a bite and found that he had to take another. It melted deliciously on his taste buds, despite its looks.

After breakfast, the family split up. Renlan left to tend to his cattle, while Fanny cleaned up the house. The children left to play outside. Legolas decided to take the opportunity to look around the village.

………………………

-I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! The second one is coming soon.

Please bring me feedback, reviews!

Thank you for reading.

This is the second time I have written this story, really. The first time, I got through about half of it and my computer went insane on me, deleting the entire thing. I had nothing left of it. But I was into writing this one and decided to rewrite it. So this is the second write of it. I hope it was as good as the first or better, even though I can't compare the two.

Also, the title may change. Is the title alright?

I also have plans of, after writing this fanfic, using the idea of this story for something else I'm working on. Just wanted to add that.  
-aknightofni


	2. Rose

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Lord of the Rings-ish.

Chapter 2

Han

Rating T

Author: aknightofni  
Well, thank you so much for reviewing the last chapter!

-RemydeMasterTief- I'm so glad you like this story, and I hope this update makes you happy.

Gwenneth-  Thank you so much for your confidence and praise! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story! About the battle. I hadn't really thought about recounting but now that you mention it, it sounds like a very good idea and I really think I'll recount it. Thank you for your input!

Alright, here it continues:

"Don't even think about it."

Legolas jolted in surprise as he was brought from his thoughts. Looking to his left, he saw who had spoken. It was a man, with long black hair and cloudy blue eyes. He had sun kissed skin and a leathery complexion and he was quite muscular. He appeared to be about seventeen years of age.

"Think about what?" Legolas asked curiously, coughing slightly from the smoke trailing from the man's pipe.

Legolas had been leaning against a wooden fence pole in the center of the village, observing the town's activity. Children were running around, involved in simple games. Several men were feeding their livestock and an old woman was sewing beside a rather plump baby.

"I saw you, just now, watching her. Really, you act as if you are blossoming with innocence." He leaned against another fence pole and motioned toward a woman drawing water from a well. She looked to be about sixteen, with a head of long, golden curls down to her waist. She had light features and blue, dazzling eyes that gave an almost longing for the ocean when one gazed into them. Although she could only be seen from profile, it could be told that she was beautiful. Before Legolas could protest, although it was true, the man thrust out his hand. "Arlan."

Legolas stared at the hand and laughed, "What do you want me to do with it?"

The man called Arlan frowned and grasped the elf's hand for him, "It's a hand. You shake it. Perhaps it's not a habit of the elves."

"No," Legolas replied, shaking the hand, a bit too roughly. "But I'm learning your ways. I am Legolas son of Thranduil."

"Rose is taken you know. That's her name." Arlan continued abruptly. "Her engagement; it's a shame really."

The prince's eyes swiveled back to the woman. "By whom?"

"By him," he pointed toward a tall, gruff man in his late twenties who was sloppily feeding his goats across the way. "Mandon. But she doesn't love him. It's _arranged_. They'll be married soon."

"You say that as if it were uncommon," protested the elf. Arranged marriages were indeed not uncommon in his culture, especially for royalty. The king had already managed to present to his son several possible suitors, all of whom came from elvish families with a lot of gold.

Arlan snorted and continued smoking. He was not partial, it seemed, to that subject. "Smoke?" he asked, to break a long moment of silence.

"No," Legolas replied, slightly offended, "My people do not smoke."

The man grinned toothily. "Have you ever tried it?"  
"My people do not smoke." Legolas repeated in annoyance. He decided then that he did not like Arlan, but for some reason could not force himself to leave his site. "It's a dirty habit; it spoils the body!"

However, when Arlan placed the pipe in his hand, Legolas felt somewhat pressured into trying it. He lifted the pipe to his lips before sputtering and coughing. He threw the pipe onto the ground. "I cannot believe you talked me into- that was disgusting! Terrible human habit!"

Smoking was not uncommon in those days, even within the youth. It was a human habit though, and the elves kept as far away from it as they could.

"Look, look!" Arlan changed subject, "Mandon!"

Legolas wheezed once more before looking where Arlan had pointed. Mandon had approached Rose and was putting his arms around her, whispering into her ear. Rose seemed terribly bothered, but did not budge.

"He's despicable," Arlan said, turning away. "Simply despicable. He's so cruel to her!"

Legolas's eyes flew from Mandon to Rose for several moments before he decided aloud, "I hate him."

Arlan sighed deeply, "So do I, Sprite, so do I."

"Sprite?" the elf demanded crisply.

"It's another word for elf." Arlan clapped him on the shoulder, his voice growing slightly defensive.

"I want her," Legolas said determinedly.

The two fell into thoughtful silence before Arlan announced, "I should be getting back to work. Pleasure meeting you, Sprite. I wish you luck in your endeavor."

"Alright Arlan," Legolas replied. "Thank you for the smoke." And at that, the two left the fence posts and went their separate ways, Arlan whistling a tune loudly and Legolas feeling guilty about their entire conversation, which had been completely out of his nature.

Legolas rested beside a stream, his arms wrapped about his knees. The day was at its end and dark clouds had made the air a moist, gray blanket across the land. There was a smell of wet earth, as it was raining not very far away. It was very cold, the kind of autumn cold that will chill to the bone. The only thing in site was the forest.

The stream slithered past delicately, about two feet wide from all of the rain. Above, trees canopied it in shadows. Little brown leaves and pine needles floated upon it, through its algae covered rocks and across its shallow sands. At this point, it was several feet deep, as a result of a slight slope. It flowed rather slowly, in its straight line, in its quiet beauty.

The elf frowned deeply, staring into the water, watching his outline with intrigue. He had changed, in simply one conversation. He had been staring at an engaged woman. He had hated someone, felt an anger he had never felt before. He had broken one of his people's values. Before he had spoken with Arlan, such things would have been away from his mind, in someone else's. Perhaps his father was right about humans, about their traditions, their disregard for everything the elves held sacred.

There was a crackling of dry leaves and pine needles across the stream from him, on the side that the village rested on. His muscles tensed and he waited for the approaching creature to appear. He was fascinated, however, with whom emerged.

The woman Rose kneeled by the water, humming a tune sweetly. Her hair was parted into long, golden braids. She began to untie them and let her hair swish delicately to its full length. She was still for several moments, doing nothing but thinking, before she saw the reflection of the elf in the water. She jumped to her feet in surprise.

"Apologies," Legolas said, gathering himself to a standing position. "I did not mean to frighten you."

She watched him for a moment, with wide eyes like a deer's and furiously blushing cheeks. Her lips were parted delicately as she stood there. When she finally did speak words, Legolas felt more intrigued than he had before. Her voice was soft and smooth, as soothing as the smile that formed upon her face. "Quite alright."

Legolas, however, turned away. He found himself feeling guilty from speaking to her, as she was engaged and if they somehow were to know each other he knew that he would court her.

She frowned and asked softly, "Is there something the matter? You seem troubled." She moved closer to the stream and held out her hand.

"I should be going. I'll leave you to your thinking," he turned to leave, but she stopped him.

"You don't need to. There is no reason why I have to think alone." She smiled gently and blushed delicately.

"We should not be speaking," Legolas begged in a quiet voice, turning his head to face her.

"Well, why not?" asked Rose curiously, unused to such an unfriendly attitude.

Legolas wished after he said what he did that he had not: "Because it is so scandalous for a woman to be with a male other than her affianced!"

Her face grew beet red, and her mien darkened in anger. "Scandalous?" Her eyes narrowed like those of a very venomous snake. "Aren't you a haughty one? Did you

_really_ think that I was the slightest bit interested in you romantically?"

She leaned forward and lost her footing, tumbling into the freezing waters. Legolas was shocked for a moment, but once recovered, gave her his hand and pulled her out onto the forest floor. "Are you alright?" He leaned over her shivering body.

Rose was completely soaked, from head to toe and the cold air was beginning to overwhelm her. "Yes, I-I just need to return to the village. I'll be fine."

"I will take you," Legolas replied, leading her by her arm through the woods toward Han, which lied not far from them.

As they left, however, Legolas began shaking from Rose's movements. Although it was a short walk, Legolas worried deeply for her health. He removed his tunic shirt generously from his torso and wrapped it around her. "I apologize for my earlier words. They were wrong."

He should have felt cold, but he was too self-conscious to notice. His bare torso was covered in scars and bruises from battles recent and long ago. His body was muscular, but somewhat gnarled from so early an exposure to war.  
She smiled in forgiveness and took the tunic gratefully. Her eyes lit up, he noticed, when she was feeling slightly warmer. "I should apologize also. Ah well, friends?"  
"Friends." Legolas answered. "I am Legolas." He held out his hand, tardy in returning the earlier handshake.

She replied with a bow, "I am Rose."

Large, fat raindrops began to fall as they walked, huddling somewhat close together for warmth. They were silent, until Rose stated, "You know me."

Legolas let his eyes fall on her curiously, "Why do you say?"  
"You knew I was engaged," said she, goose bumps crawling up her skin from the weather.

"That," the elf smiled and answered casually. "When I was exploring the village, I saw you and asked who you were. I'd like to know the village better, and a village is made up of people, correct?"  
Rose smiled back, but suspiciously. "Oh."

When they had reached the end of the village, Rose returned the tunic shirt and said, "Thank you for this, Legolas. It was a wonder meeting you." She scooped her wet dresses into her hands as she tramped through the mud puddles and waved goodnight.

….

Alright… end of chapter 2. I hope you enjoyed it also!

In the next chapter, there will be more of the other elves in the village and some more of Renlan.

Please, please review.

Thank you for reading!


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